The Darkest Hour
by InsainePandas
Summary: Lizbeth Blackrose is Tom Riddle's best friend, and she knows more than he tells her. Because Little Liz has a gift: She's clairvoyant. She's seen the d she doesn't like it. Now she has a plan: Make Tom...full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1 The Dark Future

**A/N: So, I decided to rewrite the first chapter of this. Not in its entirely, because I liked it well enough, but because I'd written this three years ago and I am much better at writing now, I felt the first part needed to be changed a little. Maybe if I get a new idea for it or have more time, I'll rewrite the first few chapters, because I know they're a little rusty. But I don't want to completely rewrite them; otherwise, I know I'll end up changing it too much and would have to start over completely, and it would no longer be the story it began as. Anyway, enjoy! **

**Summary: Lizbeth Blackrose is Tom Riddle's best friend, and she knows more than he tells her. Because Little Liz has a gift: She's clairvoyant. She's seen the future….and she doesn't like it. Now she has a plan: Make Tom realize there's more to life than anger and death. It doesn't work out as she planned…and she ends up with more heartache than she could ever imagine.**

Prologue

I never meant for this to happen; I tried, I really tried to stop him, really. But I guess I didn't see this coming. Of all things I had seen, I didn't see the most important, the one hanging right in front of my face.

Loving him wasn't enough; I had to join him or die. I guess he was surprised when I told him no—he thought I wanted a world where only the pure ones ruled. I didn't.

I should have tried harder, should have paid more attention to the changes within him, but I didn't. I was just a kid though, so how was I supposed to when I had what I thought were more important things to worry over? But my best friend was the most important and I just couldn't see that.

This is the story of how I fell in love with the Dark Lord.

001

Chapter one: The Dark Future

Lizbeth's summer morning wake-up call was as follows:

A warning shout from her aunt Charlotte, a loud call of "Wake up, you ungrateful brat!" When this didn't work, Charlotte would send up her sister, Laurie, to drag her "churlish ass" out of bed. Her older sister was now a seventh year and as such had magic on her side. So when Lizbeth did not wish to get up—and thus stayed in bed, ignoring her aunt's rude calls—Laurie would march up to her bedroom and hex her behind out of bed.

This was how Lizbeth Blackrose found herself with a face-full of carpet Friday morning.

"You are aware that it is very simple, Liz, if you just woke up when Auntie told you to," her sister reminded her, pocketing her wand once her job was done.

The younger girl just mumbled her incoherent response into the floor.

"Come on, Lizzie," Laurie said, nudging Lizbeth with a socked foot. "We're going to Diagon Alley today remember?"

Lizbeth stood up, pulling her nightgown into place. "You waited this long to go? You do realize it's almost the first of September? You should have gone when Auntie dragged me against my will with her. I would have suffered so much less."

Laurie shrugged. "I forgot. Besides, I didn't want to go until Ella got back."

"Got back from where?"

"France, remember? She was spending the summer holiday in Paris."

She didn't; Ella was Laurie's best friend, not hers.

"Fine."

"Excellent. We leave in five." And with that, her elder sister flounced out the room.

Lizbeth groaned. She was no, by any means, a morning person, and needed a good half hour to even fully wake up in the mornings. She couldn't see how her Aunt and Laurie did it, waking up early every morning and still managing to actually be awake.

0000

"Okay, so I think we've got everything," Lucy, Lizbeth friend and dorm mate said to Lizbeth.

"Finally," she mumbled, "we've been at this for nearly three hours."

"You really hate shopping, Liz." Her brunette friend laughed.

"It's called laziness. I work all summer and then I have to go walk around for hours, carrying heavy things? What do you expect from me?" she whined, pouting.

"You're just upset you haven't seen Tom yet," Lucy said.

"Yeah, well why not? I can see you whenever because you live right across the street from me, but he's all the way over here, in an orphanage he can't stand."

Lucy shook her head. "Yeah, well I'm glad I don't see him over the summer. The boy freaks me out. I mean, he's always with his group of—I swear—followers and you're probably the only girl he can stand. With Laurie, Ella, and I it seems he only tolerates us because of you."

Lizbeth frowned. She knew Tom was a bit strange, that he was probably up to something, but it wasn't like he ever did anything bad. He was nice enough, if a bit quiet. And he was polite though Lizbeth knew otherwise. She knew Tom wasn't what he seemed like, but not only because she was his best friend. It was because she saw things others didn't, couldn't see. That didn't mean she liked him any less; it just meant she was more cautious of him.

"Well, that's your problem, not mine," Lizbeth stated, walking ahead. Lucy shrugged, dropping the subject and followed her friend.

They left Diagon Alley and entered the streets of London. Ella lived in the heart of London, and her and Laurie had already finished their shopping and were back at Ella's house, waiting for Lizbeth and Lucy to finish up theirs. Lizbeth rounded the corner of the abandoned alley and ran smack dab into someone.

"Oh, I'm-" Lizbeth looked up at the sound of the voice. Staring up into bright blue eyes, Liz smiled.

"Tom!" She nearly jumped him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck. Though she was kinda short, so she was just barely touching the ground.

His lips curled up into an almost smirk at her reaction. "Well, it's nice to see you too, Lizbeth," he mused.

She dropped her arms and jumped to the ground. "I didn't expect to see you here; I thought you were only allowed to leave when you got your letter," she said. Hogwarts' yearly letter had arrived weeks ago, when she had first gone to get her school things with her aunt.

"I am, but they decided to have a day out." He pointed behind him, where a bunch of kids—ranging from six to sixteen—plus an older lady were watching them. Well, actually the older lady was staring at Lizbeth strangely and the others were too excited it seemed to pay them much attention. The lady was freaking her out a little, but Liz was used to muggles staring at her.

Lizbeth had dark purple hair nearly to her waist, and very pale jade green eyes. In the wizarding world, no one thought twice about her appearance, but out here was a different matter entirely.

Tom noticed her discomfort and said, quite angrily, "Just ignore her."

Behind her, Lucy poked Lizbeth's back and said, "We got to go, Lizzie. Ella and Laurie are waiting."

"I don't want to," Lizbeth said stubbornly.

Tom chuckled lightly. "Just go, Lizbeth. I will see you on the train." When Lizbeth didn't budge, Tom grabbed her arm and pulled her away from him. Lizbeth would have left then, if everything hadn't just faded away from her.

She was surrounded by the stench of death and chaos. Hundreds of bodies, all muggle, were piled high around her. It made her sick, nauseous, disgusted. And amidst them all was Tom, though he looked nothing like the Tom she knew. This one was chalk white, snake-like. Yet she knew it was him…his eyes, they were the same. It terrified her, made her go weak in the knees. This wasn't happening, she though, shutting her eyes tight. This isn't happening. And then…

"Lizbeth, Lizbeth are you alright?"

The busy streets of London were loud—Tom's worried eyes were clouding her vision—and the world was back.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she reassured him. Only she wasn't, she wasn't fine at all. She had to force herself to stop shaking, to stop panicking. It was no easy task. She stepped away from his grasp and backed up. "I think we should leave now," she said to Lucy, grabbing her hand.

"Huh? Are you sure? You just-"

"Yes," Lizbeth cut her off. "Bye Tom!" Then she dragged Lucy through the streets.

When they were far enough away, Liz stopped, nearly collapsing onto the sidewalk.

"Liz, what's wrong? What did you see?" Lucy kneeled down in front of her.

"A dark future," was all Lizbeth could say before losing unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2 To Each His Own

**An:Okay, so this one is more about Lizbeth discovering how she's going to save Tom. And yeah...they're will be more Tom/Lizbeth in the next one; this is supposed to be a romance after all!**

**I only own Lizbeth, Lucy, Laurie, Ella some of the plot and any characters you don't recongize.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>002<p>

Chapter two: To Each His Own

_She flitted through the halls, only one thing one her mind: Get to him before he harms more than just himself. There! She came to a stop at a simple wood door. Steading herself, both mentally and physically, she pulled it open…A sense of dread swept over her like a tidal-wave of emotion. Tom, her sweet, sweet Tom was already at the base of his own destruction. She stepped into the room….His head immediately snapped up….His normal blue eyes a bloody red…._

"_Tom," she breathed. A glare was her only response…she wasn't loved, like she thought. A cruel laugh…"I never loved you!" Harsh _words_….a glass was knocked down in her haste to get out, to get away from him; the sound crumbled any last resolve she thought to have…._

"Lizbeth?" A warm voice broke through her dream like haze; a gentle hand nudged her shoulder.

"Huh?" Lizbeth cracked her eyes open and blinked. Blue eyes stared back at her. Startled, she jumped, smacking her head against his forehead.

"Damn-it!" Liz had a bad habit of cursing when things went wrong or just when she was plan mad. "I'm sorry Tom!"

Tom waved her apology away, rubbing at his forehead. "It's alright, Lizbeth. I should have known better than to lean over you," he said, smirking slightly. "You cause the most troublesome accidents."

Lizbeth felt her face flush from embarrassment. "Shut up, you should know better than to wake me from a nap."

"Like I said, I should have, but I suppose I didn't." His eyes went from playful to a bit worried as he said, "Though, you didn't look quite right. Were you having a nightmare?"

Lizbeth shrugged. Could she call _that_ a nightmare? Yes, she supposed, you could. It wasn't though, not really. Her visions were nothing but nightmares, the nightmares of the future. And what she'd seen so far…well, she didn't know what to make of it, not exactly. She just knew that Tom was up to something, something far worse than she ever thought, and she couldn't figure out why either. She could just perhaps barely see why he'd do….whatever it he was attempting to accomplish.

Tom hadn't always been this way, not toward her anyway. When they first met, Tom was this quiet, withdrawn kid-he still was- but to the extent that he wouldn't talk to anyone. Maybe that was the exact reason for why Lizbeth decided to approach him….

It was one of those days, where you just couldn't stay inside, no matter how much you wanted to, when the sun was shining all bright and there was that breeze that warned you of winter, but it wasn't so cold where you had to stay inside.

Lizbeth was doing just that: Staying indoors. And, it seemed, so was Tom. She was curled up on a couch in the Slytherin common room when she noticed him. He was on the opposite end, hunched over a book. From where she was sitting, she could just make out the words 'Year 1, spells.' She watched him for a moment, noting the way his mouth moved as he mumbled the spells under his breathe. She smiled at that.

He was clearly muggle-born, or at least a half-blood who didn't know he was a wizard till now. Not that she minded; in fact, she'd rather be friends with one than most of the pure-bloods here. Watching him, she was reminded of the way she read; with an eagerness to find out what happens in the story.

Lizbeth cocked her head to the side, thinking. Maybe she should talk to him? No one else had and it didn't seem like the boy had any friends. Nor that he wanted any, she thought. That was what got her; was what made her get up from the couch and approach him.

He was mumbling still as she neared him, only he was pronouncing it wrong. She giggled. He looked up, seemingly mad at the interruption.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. It's '_laviosa', _the spell. They always get that part wrong for some reason," she told him.

"Thanks," he mumbled, barely audible. He didn't sound grateful at all, but when he flicked his wand and said the spell, the book in front of him hovered three inches off the ground.

"See? It's the _'laviosa'_."

Five years later and they were still the best of friends.

"I'm fine, Tom, just a…nightmare, like you said," Lizbeth said when he questioned her again. Her shrug hadn't been satisfactory enough.

She could tell he still didn't quite believe her, but he let it go when the door slid open and Laurie stood there, hands on her hips. She was already in her robes, her lighter, lilac colored hair pulled into a low ponytail. She was glaring at Lizbeth with dark blue eyes. "You have a lot to explain, dear sister," she said to her.

Lizbeth frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. "What are you talking about?"

"You," Laurie pointed to Tom, "Out. I have to talk to my sister alone."

What the heck? She must have been pretty angry at Liz for Laurie only ever began snapping at people, using her 'pure-blood' voice as Liz liked to put it, when she was really pissed.

Confused, and slightly curious, Tom shot Lizbeth a look and left the compartment. Laurie slammed it shut and sat down next to her sister.

"Laurie, what the hell? Why'd you just throw Tom out? What he do?" Lizbeth bombarded her with questions.

"Riddle didn't do anything, you did," she said.

"And what's that?"

"You had a vision and you didn't tell me. I had to find out from Lucy why she had to drag you home because you were unconscious. So, what did you see?"

Lizbeth really considered lying to her, that she could handle whatever it was she saw by herself, but she knew she probably couldn't. Besides, Laurie could help her-with whatever she might need.

"Fine, but just so you know, it doesn't make much sense," Lizbeth warned. Her sister gave her a look and ushered her along. "I saw the future, of course, but it wasn't like how I usually see it. This was years ahead, I think so anyway, because I seemed kind of old. Anyway, I saw death, muggle death. And it was horrid; I'm still surprised I can still look at the face that did it all." She sighed before continuing.

"It was Tom, just not how he normally is. I mean looks. He was…different, Laurie, evil different. I know you and Ella, and even Lucy all think there's something seriously twisted with him, and I think you may be right. Or at least, will be right. I saw a dark, dark future ahead of us, Laurie, for everyone."

Laurie just looked at her. She was used to her younger sister seeing very…weird, very bad things in the future. But death? Not so much, at least not horrid muggle death. And Tom behind it all? That didn't seem right.

"You know I've never really liked Tom, something about him was off, but I just can't imagine him killing anyone, even muggles. I know he has those…followers, but I thought that was just some kind of harmless club. Are you sure it was him?"

Lizbeth nodded. She knew her sister would say something like this, she knew she wouldn't really believe her. But Lizbeth's visions always, _always_ came true and there was nearly nothing any one could to stop it. "Yes, and like I said, he was different. He _looked_ different. He was all white, like chalk white, with this slit for a nose and his eyes….well that was how I knew it was him. If his eyes had changed, I would have just thought he was some kind of snake-like demon or something. It absolutely terrified me, Laurie. I think…I think that one day, one day very _soon_ he will turn into that…thing I saw." Venting out her fears and worries like this…well, it was what made them the close sisters that they were. She couldn't even think about telling this to Lucy, let alone Tom. Of course, Tom would possibly find her insane for she had never told him about her 'gift.' She might as well have been insane, for all the things she saw. She might have been better off.

"What do you mean, soon?" Laurie asked, clearly not liking where this was going.

"Well, I had another one involving Tom just before you came actually." Liz shook her head. "I don't know. He was….I was….Apparently, he was doing something to cause his own destruction, whatever that means, and I was desperately trying to stop him." She struggled to retain the vision; they didn't always stay fresh in her mind after she had then; sometimes she forgot altogether. "Look, whatever he's doing, he has to be stopped, that's all I know. I just…how?"

She was aware that Laurie didn't know that answer, but she was desperate. She had to stop him, had to save her best friend before he became something she knew he was not.

It was a while before Laurie answered, but when she finally did, it wasn't what she was expecting.

"You need to make him fall in love with you," she said.

"What?" Lizbeth was beyond confused. Make him fall in love with her? What was that going to do?

"Look, I haven't told you this, but I saw something too, a while ago, actually. I was somewhere different-it wasn't the usual type of vision- and there was this…thing, much like you described, only smaller and covered in blood. It told me, 'To save a soul on the path of evil, you must first learn to love it. Only then, when it learns love itself will it be saved.' I have no idea what in the world it was, or where it was, but only that I think it was right. You have to love a soul to save it," she explained.

Lizbeth could only stare at her. She could comprehend what she was saying; she just wasn't sure how to process it. She believed her-so it wasn't that. But then, what did she expect from Liz? A "oh, teach him to love? Why didn't you say so in the first place!" It wasn't that Lizbeth didn't think she couldn't love Tom-she kind of already did- it was that she didn't believe her love could change him. He had lots of 'admirers,' people who truly did love/adore him, and he was still the same. What would Lizbeth's love do to change that?

_It's not that _you_ have to love him, _he_ has to love _you, a voice in the back of her mind said. It was right, of course. Lizbeth just didn't have the confidence that came with teaching someone how to love. What was she supposed to do? Teach him the love and care of a mother he never had? Teach him how to feel? Tom could feel, she'd seen it expressed him his eyes-if only that- plenty of times. It wasn't always the biggest of feelings, but they were there and they were emotions. Was that what could save him? If Liz were able to enhance those feelings, turn them into something more, than would that save him from being that…thing? Could Tom Riddle really be able to love her?

"I…I guess what you're saying makes sense, but Laurie, why me?" Lizbeth finally asked. "What makes you think that I could be the one to change him?"

Laurie gave her a blank look. "I thought that was simple, Lizzie? You are Riddle's best friend; you're the _only_ one who even has a chance of saving him. He cares about you, on some level, and all you have to do is make him love you."

Lizbeth nodded. "Alright. I'll try, I mean I'll teach Tom Riddle that there's more to life than pain and destruction." And so began the mission of Lizbeth Blackrose attempting to make the Dark Lord fall in love.


	3. Chapter 3 Blackrose

003

Chapter three: Blackrose

Tom sometimes questioned the reason he let Lizbeth hang around. She was an extraordinary witch-there was no doubt about that- and she could be of use to him…but there was a reason he still hadn't told her his every growing plan. What was it? She was the only one she could fully trust-with most things anyway. Though sometimes, he found himself wondering exactly why he did trust her. Perhaps it was because she was the first to correct him? To show he couldn't control her like others? No, those things just angered him. Then what, for Merlin's sake, was it?

It wasn't always like this; he hadn't always trusted her, not from the beginning. No, he only allowed this girl to be around him because he knew she was the only girl in the whole school that was useful to him. That, combined with the fact Lizbeth never bothered him in the way the other girls did. They admired him, ogling over the way he looked. She never did; she laughed in their faces and actually inquired all the 'bad' things about him. So, no that _certainty_ was not the reason. No, he only really began to trust Lizbeth Blackrose at the end of their fourth year, when he accidentally let it slip he was a half-blood.

Then, no one had known he was one, besides the professors, and he didn't want anyone to know. If his followers knew he was just a measly half-blood, they might not fear or respect him as much. Well, they wouldn't have then, because that was when he was just setting his plan into motion.

(A/N: I'm not sure exactly when he does, but for this story's sake, I'll say it's his fourth year. And I'm aware that they do know he's a half-blood but again, for story's sake, they don't)

Anyway, the two of them were out in the common, when it just sort of happened. They'd been talking about their opinions on blood status and when Lizbeth had said, "My Aunt would obliterate me if I ever befriended anything less than a pure-blood. It kind of bother-"

And he'd cut her off with, "Well, I'm a half-blood." It had just slipped out with a bit of anger too. He hadn't liked her aunt's view on blood status, even though that was most pure-bloods view.

He'd expected her to be disgusted or, as rare as it was for her, mad. But, to his surprise, the purple-haired girl across from him just smiled.

"I know. It was kind of obvious when I first meet you. And really, Riddle, I don't care." She shrugged. "It's weird, I know, a pure-blood okay with a half-blood friend? Trust me; I'd rather be your friend than Malfoy's. In fact, that boy just annoys the hell out of me."

Perhaps it was the trust me that really got him to. If anything, she could know his 'secret' and still be…loyal. If he ever got her on his side. First, he'd actually have to _tell _her.

000ooo000

"Come on, Lucy, would you just get up already?" Lizbeth shouted in her best friends' ear.

"No," came a mumbled reply from deep within a cocoon of blankets. "You're the one who decided to take Advance Potions, not me. I'm not the crazy one here. I'm not the one who has a class right now. So go." A hand appeared, waving toward Lizbeth. "Find Tom or something-doesn't he have the same class?"

Right, Tom, she nearly forgot about him-and her self-proclaimed mission. She was beginning to regret accepting it for Lizbeth had spent most of the night thinking. She clearly doubted herself-how was she going to get Tom, let alone anyone, to fall in love with her? She wasn't like Laurie, who broke more hearts than she could count. She wasn't like Lucy, who was tall and lured guys to her like a moth to the flame. No, Lizbeth Blackrose was short, shy and plain.

Disregarding any negative thoughts, Liz got dressed and decided to forget about her doubts for the day. If she was right, then she still had almost a year until Tom would "cause his own destruction."

Advanced Potions couldn't have been easier, Lizbeth thought as the bell chimed, signaling the end of class. Her classmates themselves were a different matter. She had that morning's class with Gryffindor's, not that she minded that much; it was her own house that annoyed her.

She had Tom with her….which was the problem. His…followers, as Laurie and Lucy put it, were there as well. And, it seemed to her that the only reason they had even taken that class was to be near Tom.

Not only that, but one of his…fangirls? Lizbeth could say were paired up with her and Tom. That was a pain in her ass she could live without. The girl screwed up their potion all because she wanted to 'impress' Tom. Really?

Sometimes, Lizbeth wondered how he ever put up with them. _Unless he didn't, not in public anyway,_ that voice at the back of her mind mumbled.

It had a point; after all, Lizbeth could count the times she'd angered Tom in front of people and how once they were alone, he'd blow up in her face. She always found it amusing, the temper the rational, quiet Slytherin had.

"Are you feeling okay, Lizbeth? You look as if you're about to kill something," Tom asked as they exited the Potions class.

She sighed. "Yes, something like that," she mumbled.

Tom quirked an eyebrow at her, and she could tell he was genuinely curious.

She shrugged. "Your…hmm, admirers are quite annoying. How _do_ you put up with them?" She looked up at him.

Tom smirked. "The same way I put up with you, Lizbeth."

"Hey!" she exclaimed, and struggled to keep up with him for he had walked ahead with his long, graceful strides. "What's that supposed to mean?" She smacked his arm for good measure, something only she could possibly get away with.

"Well, you are quite annoying yourself sometimes."

"Yes, well, I'm obligated to do so." She nodded, crossing her arms.

Tom looked at her in amusement. "How so?"

She dropped her arms. "I'm still figuring that one out, but I'll let you know." She patted his arm.

Tom chuckled. "You're are very…amusing, Lizbeth."

She smiled. "Thank you." The smile slid straight off her face a moment later as she realized something. It was obvious to her how he only thought of her as a friend, possibly only something to amuse him, to just…entertain him. Her doubts came rushing back to her. She wanted to save her best friend, but the question still stood: Could she? Laurie might have been wrong-but maybe she saw something Lizbeth didn't? Lizbeth was an extremely bright witch for her age-always had been- but she wasn't always the most attentive. Laurie may have noticed something about Tom that Liz hadn't. She'd have to ask her.

"…Lizbeth?" Something stopped her. Tom's hands, she realized. They were on her shoulders, holding her in place, and he was looking down at her. "Is everything all right with you? You've been spacing out a lot more than usual."

She'd been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed, or heard, what he had been saying to her. Embarrassed, she looked straight into his bright eyes and said, "I am perfectly fine. You know how I am; I'm always lost in a daydream." She hated lying to him; for one, she wasn't too good at it, and he could almost always see right through her and her lies. She never thought to tell him the truth, the real reason she was always zoning out. There were just some secrets she just wasn't ready to tell.

Eyeing her, clearly disbelieving her but letting it go for now, he dropped his hands and mumbled, "If you are sure." Then he proceeded to walk down the hall, his long stride quickly putting distance between them. Without saying a word, Lizbeth hurried to follow.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:Okay, so I know the reason Tom trusts Lizbeth is kind of a stupid one, but there's more to it than that...I just have to figure that out...<strong>

**Tom's going to be a bit OOC in later chapters, but thats because he actually trusts someone. I'll try to keep him in complete character though! Tell me how I'm doing so far with that**


	4. Chapter 4 Friends, Love, and Confession

**A/N:Well, its 3am over here, so I'm gonna crash now...But here ya go, an extra long chapter. Enjoy!**

**ZZZZ...**

**Also, I do have to ask: How am I doing with keeping Tom in character? **

004

Chapter four: Friends, Love, and Confessions

Okay, Lizbeth thought, I can do this. She stared straight ahead, at that platinum hair belonging to that annoying prat, Abraxas Malfoy. _Urgh, no I can't!_

Lizbeth spun around, pacing the length of her corner of the common room. What was Laurie thinking when she suggested she befriend Malfoy?

_"Look," Laurie had said, "you have to catch his attention."_

_Lizbeth looked at her. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"_

_Laurie sighed and went to sit at one of the tables in the back of the library. "Well, Riddle's a control freak, right?" she said as Liz followed and sat beside her._

"_Yes."_

"_Well, how do you think he'd react if you became friends with Malfoy?"_

And that's how she found herself pacing the common room and contemplating whether she should befriend Malfoy. It made sense, really, it did for Tom knew she disliked Malfoy and if she suddenly was friends with him, it would surely not be something Tom would overlook. No, he'd questioned her about it, and she'd have to lie to him. Again. And it might anger him; make him think he lost his control over her. Not that he had much, because she wasn't one to be controlled, but she did hold his opinion of things higher than any other.

It would most definitely catch his attention as Laurie had said it would, but would it be a good kind of attention? Or would it be the kind that would just make Tom mad? She couldn't be sure but, as the voice in her mind said "_You're doing this to save Tom, remember?"_ she made her decision. She would befriend Malfoy-or at least try to.

Abraxas Malfoy was just like any other Malfoy-an arrogant pure-blood. He had admirers himself, girls that he actually let into his circle of friends. He was always seen with one of them, wrapped around his arm in some way, and it annoyed Lizbeth of how much of a man-whore he was. If she didn't play this out right, he might think she could be one of his 'conquests,' and Lizbeth would be damned if she let that happen.

She glanced over at him. He was staring at her, and when she noticed he was, he threw her a smirk and winked, _actually winked_, at her. What was that supposed to mean? Yes, he was, at some point or another, trying to get her attention but all of Toms' followers did at some point, and never something as brazen as this. Lizbeth decided to just ignore it; she resumed her pacing, thinking. That is until she took a sharp spin on her heel and slammed into someone. Just her luck-it was Malfoy.

"Lizbeth Blackrose," he said, that famous Malfoy smirk grazing his lips.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Even though she had made the conscious decision of befriending him, that didn't mean there was going to be any abrupt change in her character. That would seem too obvious on her part.

"Well, you were the one staring at me."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Get on with it."

"A few of us were planning a trip into Hogsmeade this weekend, seeing as how we are now allowed to go almost every weekend, and I was coming to ask you if you would like to join us? I know you normally don't go," he said, the smirk still in place.

An opportunity just presented itself to her, and she'd be in an idiot not to say yes. So she did, say yes that is. At her response, Malfoy's smirk grew though he was a bit surprised. She'd never said yes before and the only boy she ever did anything with was Tom.

"Good to know you finally see how being with people _isn't_ a bad thing," Malfoy sneered.

Again, this brought an eye roll to Lizbeth. "I'll see you Saturday," she told him and walked off without waiting for a reply.

00oo00

"It worked right?" Laurie asked as soon as she saw Lizbeth the next morning. But she hadn't seen Tom standing right next to her.

"Did what work?" he asked Lizbeth as they sat down at the Slytherin table.

Shooting her sister a look, Lizbeth said, "Nothing, Tom. And, for your information, he doesn't even know." It was true. Tom hadn't been in the common room when Malfoy had asked her, and it wasn't as if Lizbeth was going to tell him. She still was questioning if it would, in fact, bother Tom in the slightest.

Waving her fork, Laurie said, "Well, I advise that you should. It'd be smart."

"Maybe I don't want to be smart," Lizbeth mumbled under her breath.

After breakfast, Laurie pulled Lizbeth away from Tom. "I apparently have to talk to my sister. I'll see you in class," Lizbeth told Tom as her sister yanked her further down the hall. She didn't stop until they reached a deserted alcove on the third floor. Raising an eyebrow at Laurie's unusual behavior, Lizbeth asked, "What was that all about?" Her sister normally wasn't like this; if she had something to say, she'd say it, no matter who was around or where she was at. Though, this was a different situation they were in, a more secretive one.

"I didn't want to say this in front of Riddle, is all. So, what happened?"

"Oh, well can't it wait? I am going to be late for class."

"No," Laurie said stubbornly. She was clearly not going to wait; but then, she was never the patient one.

A sigh escaped Lizbeth's lips. "Stubborn prick. Fine, Malfoy asked me to accompany him into Hogsmeade on Saturday. I said yes."

"That's all?"

Lizbeth nodded. "Yes." She turned to go and was walking toward the dungeons when Laurie said, "He didn't mention anything else?"

She looked back at her sister, a question marking her face. "Never mind." Laurie dismissed her confusion with a wave of her hand. "I was just thinking….Just go to class, the bell will ring soon."

Still confused, but deciding to leave it alone, Lizbeth sauntered off to Advanced Potions. She was confused, but Laurie was sometimes a bit weird, and Lizbeth just concluded she was having one of her stranger moments. Lizbeth was just glad she had someone she could confide in; usually, in problems regarding boys, she would go to Lucy, but this wasn't just any boy problem, and Lizbeth thought that the less her friend knew, the better. She knew that if this didn't end well, she might put others in danger, and it would be worse if anybody else actually knew.

When she reached Advanced Potions right before the bell chimed, something odd happened. Well, not so odd, as it was something that didn't occur-and she was the one that caused it. Tom was already at his seat, an empty seat next to him, but instead of heading toward him, Lizbeth changed directions and headed straight toward Malfoy. He was by himself which was another odd thing that never occurred.

"Well, Miss. Blackrose, this is new," said Malfoy as she sat down next to him. "You're not attempting to make Riddle jealous, are you?" He laughed.

Lizbeth rolled her eyes; it seemed to her, that that was all she did around the boy. "No, I just thought a new seat would be good for me. You know a new change of scenery, and all? I've been sitting in relatively the same seat for the last five years," she told him, and it wasn't a lie, not exactly. She had no intention of making Tom jealous-not that he would _ever_ be jealous-and it was partially true that she did want a change of scenery, not that there was much to see in a Potion's class.

Malfoy glanced at her, clearly amused. "If you say so," he said. Five minutes after class began, he leaned in to whisper, "But just so you're aware, he _is_, if I say so myself, looking very angered by this."

Lizbeth looked back to where Tom sat. She blinked; Tom was glaring at Malfoy. This was _not_ going to end well. At least not for Malfoy, anyway. Lizbeth giggled quietly. The mere thought of Tom even the _slightest_ bit jealous sent her into a giggle-fit. She couldn't help it, though, for Tom was not, by any means, the jealous type. Yes, it was true, that he was a control freak, that he expected his way with things, but Lizbeth knew he wouldn't ever get jealous, especially over something as trivial as this. _Would he?_

She shook her head and turned back around. No, she couldn't imagine that, it just wasn't like Tom to do that.

It wasn't as if Tom were jealous; he knew he wasn't. He was simply annoyed for he couldn't comprehend Lizbeth's actions. He was fully aware that she didn't like Malfoy in any way, shape or form. In fact, he was positive she had inquired to him that he annoyed her. So why, he wondered, was she sitting next to Malfoy instead of him? It confused him-and annoyed him.

Perhaps she had a change of heart, he reasoned, and decided she'd try to find something of tolerable quality. Yet…that didn't seem quite right to him, either. Lizbeth wasn't the type to just suddenly find the 'good' in people. There had to be more to it, he knew it. But just what was that?

0oo00oo

He questioned her about it right after class ended. Lizbeth was not surprised by this.

Neither of them had another class until nine, so he led her to the library, one of the only places you could truly be in privacy.

"Did you need to look up something?" she asked as they walked into the back of the library. "For a class, maybe?"

"No, I do not," he answered curtly. Okay, so maybe he wasn't jealous, but he _was_ a bit angry.

Lizbeth held back a giggle. She had always found his temper amusing, for reasons even she couldn't figure out why. "Alright, if you don't need a book, then why are we at the library? Not that I mind it or anything, I'm just curious."

He turned sharply to her. "What I am curious to know about is why did you chose to sit with Malfoy today?"

Again, Lizbeth had to hold back a giggle. Sniggering lightly into her hand, she quietly let out her giggle session, and quickly composed herself. "Oh, that? I was just in the mood for a new seat. Not that there is anything wrong with you, but I do believe it is your…hmm, fangirl that's causing my annoyance. But I already told you this, correct? So I can't see what your problem is, Tom," she explained to him, glancing directly into his blue eyes while she told her half-truth. It would be better this way, for Tom could always tell when someone was lying, and it made it even more obvious when you didn't look him in the eye. Must be from his controlling personality, Lizbeth decided.

Tom wasn't as rude in his reply this time, though she could tell he was still a bit mad. "Well, I shall fix that, then. It would not have become a problem if you had just told me, Lizbeth," he said stiffly.

"Hmm, it's not as if I have to tell you everything," she said. "I mean, I still have my secrets, like I know you do." She smiled at him, trying not to show she was aware of something he was not. Tom was not the type of person who liked to be out-of-the-loop, for a better word. He always wanted to know everything in a situation so as to be in control of that situation. Lizbeth didn't mind that fact, she just found it highly amusing.

Actually, most of the things that Tom did angered others to a certain point-if they knew the real him, anyway-but for Lizbeth, she found them quite humorous, or cute even. Perhaps it was one of the main reasons she'd stayed his friend.

"Yes, I suppose we all do, don't we, Lizbeth?" he asked.

Lizbeth nodded. "Well, clearly. Everyone has their secrets, Tom. Now, was that all you needed to say to me?"

"Hmm, yes."

"You brought me all the way here for that? You're almost as impatient as Laurie." She laughed. "Am I the only patient one around here?"

"You seem to be," he said, smirking slightly. He turned around in the opposite direction they were going and headed back to the front entrance to the library. "Let's go then."

The two of them soon left the library, and when they entered the main hallway Lizbeth decided she should tell him now, so she would not have to bother about it later.

"Tom? I need to tell you something. Promise you will not get mad?" she asked hesitantly.

"Hmm?" came his answer for he was only half listening to her, it seemed.

"Well, I won't be going to Hogsmeade with you this Saturday," she said, biting her lip.

Silence was met with her statement. And then: "And why will you not?" He didn't sound angry, in fact he didn't sound like anything at all: Just a calm, neutral voice. And that was possibly the worst voice you could receive when addressed by him.

Yet, Lizbeth was anything but afraid; nervous, and just a little. "Um, because I'm accompanying Malfoy," she said. "It's nothing; he just asked me, and I decided a little change in my normal routine was nice. Besides, I've only ever been to Hogsmeade a few times, and well, I decided I just did not want to go with you," she finished, not sure if this was aiding her, or worsening her situation.

But all Tom said was, "Oh, I see. Well, that's alright. I just want to know why you suddenly fancy Malfoy."

"What? That's what you thought? Tom, I do not like Malfoy like that. He…I've just noticed he might not be as bad as I originally thought, is all. I did just tell you it was nothing, and it's not."

"I did wonder, Lizbeth. I was right to think it was just a simple change of heart you had," he said, still in that calm voice. "But it's fine."

She bit her lower lip, gnawing hard. She knew this wasn't going to end like she wanted, yet she had to tell him anyway. Now he was angry, and she didn't like it. She was not used to him acting this way toward her, at least not over something such as this. But then, she had never done something like this before, and she could see why he would be mad over it-well, mad over the fact that he probably did not know the reason for why she was suddenly wanting to do things with Malfoy. She could just _see_ his frustration.

"You can come along, if you want. I mean, I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't mind," she hurried to say, hoping it would calm him down some, ease his frustration.

"If you wish," he mumbled, looking down at her.

"Great! Then it's a date!" She flushed, realizing what she just said. "I mean, it's…it is _not_ a date, just a…a," she fumbled over the words, wondering why she was this baffled and embarrassed by this. It wasn't _that_ bad, was it?

Tom merely smirked. "You never fail to amuse me, Lizbeth."


	5. Chapter 5 Surely a Disaster

**A/N: I would have put this out sooner, only my internet was down, so you get an extra-long one instead. **

**To Anditrix: Thanks for the suggestion; it'll be put into account! **

**This chapter nearly fried my brain writing it, and I'm still not satisfied with it, but hopefully you guys will. My first attempt at the dark side of Tom…hope I did well….:P**

005

Chapter five: Surely a Disaster

Saturday came too fast for Lizbeth in her opinion. Her week wasn't bad….yet it wasn't truly good either. It just kind of…was. Tom was back to his original self, though she noticed he was still a bit frustrated, and it was mainly due to her being around Malfoy more often. She was doing this so she could at least _try_ to find something she didn't hate about him; it would help her for Saturday. When she told him that Tom would be coming with them, he seemed-to her, at least- a bit too happy with it. Well, not so happy as completely alright with it. Not that she expected anything else-but Malfoy was a follower, so he was possibly just excited that Tom was even going. Lizbeth couldn't tell, because for her, she could never really tell a thing about them, the followers.

Lizbeth decided to consult Laurie early Saturday morning, before the time she was supposed to meet Malfoy and Tom.

As she was getting ready(when Lizbeth was nervous about something, she tended to change outfits at least five times before she was satisfied, so she was making a mess of her room) Laurie came in upon her request. Her sister raised an eyebrow, but otherwise made no comment. "Laurie! I need your help with something," Lizbeth said upon noticing her.

"And that would be?"

"Well, see, I can't, not for the life of me, find something of even remotely tolerable quality in Malfoy. And I have to meet them in an hour. How is this going to work if I can't even stand to be around him?"

Laurie blinked. That was slightly unexpected. Lizbeth wasn't one to voice her worries; she bottled them up inside and only very rarely would she free them. Though, this wasn't a worry to be taken lightly, so she could understand this. "Calm down, Liz. It'll be fine. It does not matter if you cannot stand the boy-you don't need to-just make sure Riddle thinks you're having a wonderful time with him. It's just the one day; it won't kill you," Laurie said.

Lizbeth stopped in the unbuttoning of her blouse, for the third time that morning, and did as she was told. She took a deep breath and told herself to relax. There was nothing to worry about. It was just one day, and by the end of it, Tom might not want her around Malfoy anymore-or Malfoy wouldn't be around at all. Gah, what _was_ she thinking? Tom wouldn't harm Malfoy. Well, if anything, she had to admit Tom _would_, in fact, harm him, but he wouldn't kill him. Right?

Lizbeth nodded. "Sure. Thanks, Laurie."

"Just trying to look after my baby sis, is all." Eyeing her up and down, she added, "Shouldn't you be dressed yet, or are you stressing over this too much?"

Lizbeth sighed. "Both. I'm working on it. Now leave since I have no need for you anymore."

Laurie laughed. "You're sounding awfully Pure-blood there, sis," she said as she headed out the door.

Lizbeth rolled her eyes, and got dressed, this time not re-dressing over and over. Once she had her curly, dark purple, almost black, hair up into the type of style she wanted, she ventured out into the common room where she waited for Tom and Malfoy to show up. She bit her lip. It wasn't that she was nervous still, it was that she was wondering how, exactly, this day was going to go. Would it end well? Would it end in disaster? She may have been able to see into the future, but there were some things Lizbeth couldn't see. How this day would go was one of them.

"You're ready then?" She jumped, startled, and turned to face the owner of the voice. It was Malfoy, Tom standing next to him. He laughed. "I apologize; I didn't mean to scare you," Malfoy said.

Embarrassed slightly, Lizbeth mumbled, "I wasn't scared, just startled is all." Then she noticed it was just the two of them. "Malfoy, I thought a few others would be joining us?" she asked. She was certain he had said as such when he first asked her.

"Oh, that. Change of plans, it seems. They had to cancel."

"Oh."

"Yes, well, shall we go now?" suggested Tom.

"Ah, yes."

Lizbeth was in between Tom and Malfoy as they walked into the village. To anyone glancing in their direction, it was an odd sight for Lizbeth had never been seen with anyone else than Tom.

Lizbeth knew Tom would want to go to the bookstore, and she herself was all for it, but when Malfoy asked if they wanted to go to the sweets shop, she was the first to say, "Yes, let's go there."

Lizbeth had an exceptional fondness to sweets of any kind. Especially the wizarding kind.

She glanced toward Tom. "Oh, but I know you'd rather go to the bookstore, Tom. Hmm…"

Malfoy came up with a solution to this small problem. Not one that Lizbeth was too keen on agreeing to. "Well, since Lizbeth would prefer sweets to books, why don't she and I go there, while Riddle goes to the bookshop?" he suggested.

"Well, we don't have to. I can always get sweets later," Lizbeth said to Tom.

"No, you two go. I know your fondness for sweets, Lizbeth. If you don't get them now, you will complain about not having them later," Tom said, smirking slightly.

"You're sure?"

Tom nodded. "Yes."

"Alright, Lizbeth, let's go," said Malfoy. She and he walked away from Tom. Lizbeth wasn't sure at _all_ how this would end. She didn't think of this as a good thing.

"So, Miss. Blackrose, would you mind telling me the real reason you brought Riddle along today?" Malfoy inquired as they walked into the shop.

Lizbeth frowned. "What do you mean?" She was positive she had hid her reason well; she was sure not to be obvious about anything.

"I know the two of you do just about everything together, so when you first accepted my offer, I was a bit surprised. And then when you suddenly asked if Riddle could come along, well, you can imagine my confusion. So, clearly he said something to you to cause you to ask," explained Malfoy.

Damn, he was more perceptive then she had first thought. If she wasn't careful, he might find out something she didn't want to be known. "Maybe I just realized he might want to go," she said carefully.

Malfoy glanced at her. He smirked. "Sure, Lizbeth."

0oo00o

The day didn't end as horribly as Lizbeth once thought it would. After she obtained her sweets, she and Malfoy sought out Tom. They found him, upon Lizbeth's suggestion, still in the bookstore. And then, the three of them simply spent the remainder of the daylight in Hogsmeade. No one argued; it was just simple, pleasant conversation, hardly what Lizbeth had expected.

The second Lizbeth was alone in the common room after dinner, Laurie pounced. Closing her book with a sigh, Lizbeth looked up, holding out a hand to stop her sister from talking before saying, "Before you start, no, nothing happened. It was just like any other _normal_ day in Hogsmeade. Tom and Malfoy were completely civil. Did you actually think Tom would get jealous?"

"No, just catch his attention. Which, I know it did. Especially after you told me what happened when you told him," Laurie said, clearly smug.

"Yeah, well it did, but it's more like he's frustrated that he can't find the reason for me and Malfoy," Lizbeth pondered.

"Hmm, so, sister, what's next?"

"I don't know, Laurie, I just don't know." Lizbeth sighed for she really didn't know where to go from here.

* * *

><p>Tom dragged Malfoy into the deserted alcove, slamming him against the wall. Tom was angry at him, though he didn't want to admit the reason why. Tom was just frustrated, that's all, and this punishment was not because he was jealous, it was <em>not<em>. No, someone needed to be punished for causing him to feel as if he were losing his best friend-and why not the one who caused it? That was the reason Tom was punishing Malfoy, and nothing else.

"_You're jealous, Riddle." _ The words that Lizbeth's sister dared to tell him rang through his head. The words caused him to grow more angered. He drew his wand and pointing it straight at Malfoy's face, he asked calmly, "What exactly were your intentions today?"

"I.." Tom hated it when they didn't have confidence. Through narrowed eyes, he flicked his wrist-and Malfoy began withering and screaming in pain. With another flick, the pain stopped, leaving Malfoy panting and curled up into a ball.

"Now, are you willing to tell me now, or do you want a repeat?" Tom asked, still in that calm voice.

"I don't know what you mean," Malfoy said in between heavy breaths.

"Do you now?" A flick. More pain, more screams. And then:

"Tom?"

Quickly silencing Malfoy and moving him deeper in the shadows, Tom turned around. A confused and questioning Lizbeth was standing just before him, cradling two books to her chest. "What are you doing out after curfew?"

"I lost track of time and I was just heading back from the library. What are you doing over here? Didn't you have a prefects meeting or something?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. Squinting, she moved closer to him. "Is that…blood?"

Tom swept his lit up wand over the spot she was gesturing to. There was, indeed, a small pool of blood in the spot Malfoy had just been in. "It's smeared, like something was dragged across it." Lizbeth was slowly advancing toward the corner Malfoy was in. That wasn't good. Pocketing his wand, Tom gently grabbed her around the waist and steered her away from the blood.

"Don't worry about it, Lizbeth. It's probably nothing," he told her, choosing his words carefully. "And, if it bothers you, I will inform the teachers about it tonight."

Lizbeth looked up at him, biting her lip. He smiled down at her. "Well, alright, but you better be sure to inform me what it is when you know," she ordered him.

Though Tom never took orders from anyone, he agreed. "Of course. Let me walk you back." _And then I'll deal with Malfoy_, he added silently.

He made the choice then: He refused to tell Lizbeth about his plan, for now anyway—and he refused to let anyone else get close to her.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, that was fun! Is Tom jealous or just possessive? I'm not sure of that one, myself actually…but I will eventually….hopefully. **


	6. Chapter 6 The Story Of Us

006

Chapter six: The Story of Us

_He had put up walls, _thick_ walls, she realized as the week wore on. He was more secretive than he'd ever been before. And whenever the chance came that the two could speak together, alone, it felt to her that every word out of his mouth was a lie. A lie necessary to hide the truth from her, the real truth he wanted none to know._

_ To her, she felt as though they were ever so slowly drifting apart. To him…well, he simple did not have the pretense to care. Or even the emotions. He simply had _no_ feelings left in him, it appeared. And to her, that was the worst thing that could happen to a person. He was unable…to feel._

Lizbeth woke Sunday morning to a loud ringing that sounded much like a muggle alarm clock. Liz just wanted it to stop so she could continue to sleep, but that incesive noise would not cease no matter how many pillows she stacked upon her head. With an annoyed groan, she rolled out of bed and padded to where she thought the noise was coming from. She lifted up the sheets of the bed next to hers, and ducked her head under it. It was dark, and she couldn't see where it was. Getting down on her stomach, Lizbeth reached her hand in, feeling around. _Urgh, where is…it!_ She scooted herself further up, till she was almost halfway under the bed. It must have been way in the back. _There!_ Her hand clamped down on something metal and cold. Grasping it, she pulled out her roommates' muggle alarm clock.

Lizbeth glared at it. "I can't stand these things." She silenced it, and smacked it against the floor before tossing it back under the bed. Now, back to her bed on this annoyingly cold early November day.

Over the last two months, things passed smoothly. Lizbeth attended class, spent time with both Tom and Laurie (for Laurie had been pestering her about Malfoy as of late), and well, speaking of Malfoy. After that first trip into Hogsmeade, when she had found that blood _near_ Tom, Malfoy had been avoiding her-that is, when he got released from the infirmary. It had been said that he'd been found bloody and unconscious in an alcove on the fifth floor. No one knew what had happened.

Though now, after Lizbeth went out of her way to personally see him (despite the fact she disliked him, she was still worried if he was alright or not), they'd been seen together. Usually only in class, but they were talking and all. If not throwing out the occasional insult more than once though he always seemed nervous and antsy when they were conversing.

They were friends…of a sort. Lizbeth still found him quite annoying/disgusting, yet she could now have a conversation with him without rolling her eyes. Well, she still rolled them every now and then.

Lizbeth clambered back into her nice, warm, soft bed, snuggling under the fluffy covers. It was 9am according to that clock, and she was alone in her room which she was glad for; her roommates were normally loud and annoying, especially that Black girl. Now, back to her dream…Her green eyes snapped open, and she groaned quite loudly. She just realized something: Her dream was a vision, of Tom. She hadn't understood it; she didn't want to. She had not had a vision of any kind since the train ride-and she was glad she hadn't.

She yanked the comforter over her head and sighed deeply. She refused to even think about that. She hadn't forgotten about her mission, but things had gone so well the last two months that she didn't _want_ to think about Tom's self-destruction. So she wouldn't, not today at the least nor would she worry over her dream, which was already slipping from her grasp. A second more and it would be lost to her forever.

Lucy was shaking her awake an hour later, complaining that Lizbeth was "abandoning her to a bunch of inadequate idiots's."

"Come on, you lazy bum, get up already. I'm aware it's a Sunday, but you can't stay in bed all day," Lucy inquired, throwing the covers to the floor. Getting hit with a blast of freezing cold air was not how she wanted to be woken. But then, neither was by an obnoxious alarm clock.

"Fine, I'm up!" Lizbeth screamed, annoyed. She sat up in bed, her pale eyes glaring holes into Lucy.

"Okay! Good, now we're going to Hogsmeade," Lucy ordered.

Lizbeth go up from the bed, stretching as far as she could go. "Why?" With a yawn, she moved to her trunk and pulled out some clothes. Warm clothes. Urgh, she really hated the cold.

"Because I need a new quill," she answered.

Lizbeth raised an eyebrow at her as she stripped of her nightgown and pulled her blouse over her head. "Right now? I can lend you one of you really need it."

Lucy flushed suddenly. "No, no I need one that's new. Yes, that's what I need." She was talking fast for a reason Liz didn't understand. And then she thought of something.

"Did you hear somewhere that Eli would be going to Hogsmeade today or something?" Eli Wood was Lucy's current crush, though Lizbeth knew it wouldn't last for Lucy liked a different guy every single week. Lizbeth let it happened, because she secretly found it amusing.

"What? No." Lucy shook her head, her brown curls bouncing around her face. Then: "Was it that obvious?"

Lizbeth nodded. "Yes, actually," she said, smirking. "It's not going to last, you know. Next week it'll be some else, and then—"

"It's different this time! I really do like him," Lucy interrupted.

Lizbeth just looked at her. "If you say so." She shrugged. "But I can't see why you have to make me come along too. Coward."

Lizbeth yawned. It was too early to be out in Hogsmeade, but she was dragged along anyway.

"How can you still be tired? Lizbeth, it's nearly noon already!" Lucy complained from next to her.

"Hmm, well that's your problem."

"How?"

Lizbeth looked up. "Oh, look," she pointed to a sixth year Ravenclaw some while away from them. "Isn't that Wood?"

"What?" Lucy immediately followed her finger. "Uh, yes that is."

"Good, now go." Lizbeth pulled Lucy along with her as she made her way over to where Wood was at. "Talk to him. And I am not taking no for an answer."

Lucy frowned, though she couldn't hide her blush. "You're around Tom too much."

"Sure. Go." Dragging herself to a halt, Lizbeth smiled once at Lucy before leaving her to her own devices. Lizbeth then began wandering around the village, contemplating what she was going to do for the remainder of the day. She would have still been sleeping if it weren't for Lucy. And she'd already completed all her homework… She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she wasn't aware of where she was going-until she slammed straight into someone. When she looked up, she saw it was Malfoy.

Slightly embarrassed for her slip up, she mumbled out, "Oh, sorry Malfoy, I didn't see you. "Knowing he was avoiding her for some reason, she stepped around him, attempting not to be of a bother to him, only to slam into Tom's chest this time. "Oh." She glanced around; his other followers where around him as well. Huh, that was odd. She couldn't remember a time when they were all together like this. "Hi Tom," she said, unsure of what to say.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Lizbeth, I would have thought you'd be still asleep; it is only noon, correct?"

"Yes, but Lucy decided she was going to drag me along with her today," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I'll see you later Tom."

0oo00

_The stench of Death was nearly overwhelming for her; it was such a hindrance that she was having trouble breathing. She'd never liked death, or even the idea of it. She'd never thought this way before. That is to say, she'd never _wanted_ to live forever before. But she could make the right assumption in putting the blame on Tom-couldn't she? If it hadn't been for his suggestions and manipulative way, she never would have done this-this that was so…_horrible_ that she couldn't even begin to fathom for why anyone would ever dare to think of doing this. She'd _killed_ someone; she'd spilt her _soul_ into to, all for her best friend who didn't even love her back._

Pale jade eyes snapped open into the dark, and Lizbeth gasped. What was _that? _Sure, she was aware it was a dream/vision, but why was it so…dark? Why was _she_ so dark? Lizbeth had a full understanding of how the future worked; that is, she knew that what you did in the present could forever alter you future. So, the question was, what did Lizbeth do that caused her to be that way in her future?


	7. Chapter 7 Fragility

**A/N: Wow, so it's been like a month, right? Hehe...yeah, sorry 'bout that but what can I say more than: Blame it on geometry. It shall be the death of me...Anyway, I tried, I really, really tried to make it longer, but as you can see, I failed. Epically. *sigh* **

**This is kinda of like a two part thing, sorta, maybe, I don't know anymore. Either, way, enjoy...And don't kill me. I'll try to go back to my normal updating time. Sorry if it sucks, I kinda couldn't think of anything...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recongize. Characters, ect.**

007

Chapter seven: Fragility

Girls were fragile, which in turned caused them to be weak, useless beings, an eleven year old Tom thought. And yet, here was one, standing directly in front of him, belittling him. Perhaps it was because she was a Pure-blood, and that's just the way they acted? No, that couldn't be…At least not for Lizbeth Blackrose. Even at eleven, she was cynical, yet she always proclaimed the truth, rather it be hash or not, she simply did not care.

"Lizbeth," he said, stopping her mid rant.

"Yes Tom?" she asked.

"Would you please shut up?" he asked politely, yet he was becoming quite peeved at this moment.

Lizbeth blinked. Then, with a sly smile, she inquired, "Are you annoyed then? If you are, then just tell me; it won't bother me."

Tom frowned. "Now why would I be?"

"I am insulting you," came Lizbeth's blunt reply.

_This girl, _he thought, _can read me like a book. _She smiled widely at him, as if she knew what he was thinking. For all he knew, she could. He was new to the wizarding world; what did he know? Either way, he thought as he sat there, Lizbeth Leanne Blackrose was not defined as the normal girl.

Year three

Third year seemed to be the precise year Tom Riddle began to truly put his trust in Lizbeth. Maybe it was from her calculating personality, a way similar to his own, or from the fact if, for any reason, she would be insulted she would completely bring the person down (verbally, of course for Lizbeth only exceeded at defensive spells). She could be cruel and yet, despite being of Pure-blood heritage, she treated Mud-bloods the same as anyone else. She was truly a contradiction. But, no matter-whatever the reason it be, Tom could trust the witch, if not only to some degree.

And now we come back to their sixth year, to a time, where many changes will occur: Emotionally, physically, and mentally.

Tom still held his trust in Lizbeth just as she to him, and yet….something unusual was happening with Tom. He was acting a bit like Malfoy had been acting at the moment. Avoiding her, or more like since it is him, making excuses such as: "I have homework, I will see you later," or "Slughorn wants to see us tonight." Another thing: What the hell was the "Slug club" exactly? Or, more like: Why was the club filled only with Slytherins? Tom's Slytherins.

But that, in fact, was going to occur sometime later. First, we must get to the heart of the problem, that which causes Tom's strange behavior.

It was the middle of November, and Lizbeth was freezing her bum off. _Why, _she had to wonder, _am I standing out here in the cold at 7am on Saturday morning? _She despised the cold and it looked as if it were about to begin snowing, which just damped her already sour mood. Urgh, Lizbeth scowled.

She sat down on the cold, hard wood, already losing the feeling in her fingers. Why did she have to misplace her gloves today of all days? She knew she should have searched for them the last night!

"You look miserable," commented Tom from above her.

Without glancing up, she grumbled out, "No kidding. It's too early and I'm all…icy." She shivered, tugging her coat closer around her small frame. "That's it, I can't feel my hands," Lizbeth said blankly, holding out her pale hands.

He chuckled. "I believe there's such a thing called gloves that you wear to help prevent the numbing of fingers," he inquired as he took a spot next to her.

Lizbeth's scowl only deepened. "And why am I here again?"

"I believe it is to support your sister," he answered.

"Right."

Laurie was the chaser on the Slytherin Quidditch team (something that didn't occur often for girls), and while Lizbeth had no ill thoughts in regard to the sport, she did not, however, enjoy the fact they were having a game this early on such a cold morning. Especially since it just now began to snow.

"I am going to be an icicle by the time this match is over, Tom," said Lizbeth to the boy sitting next to her.

He, in turn, chuckled. "I'll be sure to thaw you out."

Soon enough, a crowed of students had filled in the Quidditch field, and the only good thing that came out of this was Lizbeth was not as cold from all the body heat surrounding her. Still, she huddled just a bit closer toward Tom: crowds were not her most favorite thing in the world. And then the match began.

Normally, Lizbeth would pay attention to the match, but right at this moment, the second her shoulder had brushed Tom's, when her thigh brushed his, her mind sputtered to a stop. The crowd, the game and the world was gone as a vision consumed her, body and mind.

_She was staring straight into the golden slanted eyes of a snake the length, and possibly width, of a train. A basilisk, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. A basilisk, she vaguely recalled reading about such a thing, but she could hardly believe one existed directly below the school, in the girl's restroom for Merlin's sake! She blinked, staring at it with curiosity. How was it possible for Tom to be able to…control this thing? Lizbeth was aware that Tom could talk to snakes and such, but this seemed a little far-fetched even to her. Why did Tom want to release this beast was beyond her, she just knew what he had told her when she asked him: "I am doing this to ensure the purity of the wizarding world," he had informed her, little over a week ago. She still had not the faintest clue as to what that meant, and maybe she never would. Perhaps she, deep down, just did not want to know what he was insinuating; she just wanted to relish in the firm belief she had about Tom that he would never do anything to endanger the lives of the innocent. Yet, another part of her, the suspicion and caution she'd always held toward him, was roaring its ugly head and screaming, "HE IS EVILL!" Either way, she didn't know what to believe in anymore, or who to believe in for that matter._

_ The serpent tilted its head slightly and absently Lizbeth knew it wouldn't be able to hurt her. She didn't know why, though she would bet anything it had to do with something Tom may have said to it. A series of hisses came from the snake, directed behind her. She turned around. It was Tom, of course, not that she was surprised; he did invite her down here after all. His lips quirked slightly up in amusement at the sight of the two._

_"Magnificent, isn't it?" he said, moving closer still._

"_Unreal is more like it," muttered Lizbeth. _

_He pretended as if she hadn't spoken. "To think that something like this was hidden under the school. It makes me wonder how it got down here in the first place," he continued, walking up next to her, coming to stand in front of the creature. _

_She stared at him, blinking. "I guess," she said, though what she really wanted to ask was how he'd unleashed this thing, and why. Only she couldn't; or maybe she just didn't want to know the answer. She was afraid to know if he really was going to do something bad. _

_ He glanced at her, his bright eyes turned hard, darker. "You wish to know the reason I've done this, don't you?" _

_Unfazed- for Tom had stopped surprising her for a while now- she just nodded. _I really don't want to know, _she was thinking as Tom began to answer. _

"_I'll tell you, I suppose," he said, and turned his back on the basilisk. He crossed to the other side of the Chamber, hands behind his back. "You see, Lizbeth, I have this idea-"_

And that was when the vision morphed into something else. Something…weird. Or more like, it was several different visions crammed together, its main reason just to confuse her. And confuse her it did.

_She flew down the dim lite hall….slammed hands against wood doors until they bled. Cried out till her voice ran raw…no such luck, he still wouldn't answer her calls of intense need._

_ Dark spots danced across her eyes, a dizzy spell just waiting to happen. He was there. Why? She didn't understand. "I'll ask again…" Oh, it was _that_ again. Now she realized it…no, it was just that simple. She refused him once, and she'd do so again. _

_ She'd escaped to America, New York actually…a baby was crying. A girl. She had the dark hair of her mother and the bright captivating blue eyes that belonged to her father. She was safe…free….for now. _

Lizbeth was snapped back into reality as soon as the buldger came soaring toward her, smacking her clean in the face. Her neck snapped back and she only had but a moment to register what had just happened before she blacked out.

Lizbeth talked in her sleep, and as soon as she had been carried off to the infirmary to get a check over, she began to mumble. Her vision had been the last thing she'd really recalled and as it had been the freshest thing on her mind that was what her unconscious mind managed to stumble out. Or, at least, random phrases about it, mumbling about the basilisk, Tom and her unguarded thoughts of him.

Lucky for her, the majority of the people that had brought her along-mainly Laurie, Lucy, Tom and the school's healer- were outside the range of hearing her. Except for one single individual-Tom.

And that was bad, very bad. For Tom never knew her gift of prophecy and this one incident would be the start of something no one, not even Lizbeth, could have predicted.


	8. Chapter 8 No Turning Back

**A/N: Well, that was much faster. Yay! Anyway, to Anditrix: The second vision, yeah, wasn't sure about that till I wrote this. Though that part was because long before I had even thought of the idea for this, I was writing a Draco/OC story where my character was the daughter of Voldemort. And this is kind of like the prequel to that, but not really. I don't know...And has my writing improved? Um, not sure what you mean by that. **

**Well, enjoy! :)**

008

Chapter eight: No Turning Back

Stars of light danced behind Lizbeths' eyelids. She didn't want to open her eyes; they felt heavy, painful even. Hell, her whole body was laden down with an aching pressure she couldn't ignore. Her mind was very much conscious- though pounding with its own pulse- but the rest of her had yet to form a response. She was vaguely aware of people standing, hovering, near her, but that was all. No, just one person, a swish and with it came a faint scent of orange. Then, added to the quiet noise the healer Lizbeth assumed was making came whispers—hisses.

She'd never heard before the sound of such harsh hisses of snakes, but she assumed that this was what such would sound like. It began slowly, faint, but as the seconds rolled by and became minutes, the hisses progressed, sharper, louder, until she thought they were _on _her. She freaked, to put it mildly. And then she forced her heavy lids open-and came to the realization that she had been dreaming. There was no sound, no hiss, no snakes crawling across her body, nothing but the silence and darkness within the infirmary.

Gasping, she made herself calm down, to breathe. She leaned back against the pillows. She wasn't surprised that it was dark by the time she had woken; visions sometimes drained nearly the whole of her energy straight from her and she'd sleep for days on end. Maybe she _had_ been asleep for days, she couldn't tell.

She was the alone, which only added to the fear still left from her dream. What had happened again? The force of the vision was so strong she passed out? It wouldn't have been the first time for that to happen. But then why was her head in so much _pain?_ Lizbeth could honestly not recall what had got her sent to the infirmary, and mostly definitely did she not know how she got there. Carried, somehow or by someone. She sighed, rubbing her head, though it didn't exactly help the migraine she had. How _did_ she get that, anyway? She moved her hand an inch to the right, to the center of her forehead-and cursed, loudly. _Ouch. That was painful._

She felt the skin, lightly this time. It felt tender, like something had just recently slammed into her forehead. She blinked, repeatedly. _That's right, the Quidditch game…the buldger. _It had knocked her clean out. How did that happen? Well, it didn't really matter. What was important was her vision. This time, she could still remember, it was still fresh on her mind. _Was Tom going to release a basilisk? _She thought. Yet, she didn't know what a basilisk was, so how could she be prepared for whatever it was? She'd have to do her research on it, if she could find it somewhere in the library.

Aside from that, Lizbeth would stick with the original plan as goes; she couldn't start acting suspicious around him that just wouldn't do. So, act normal, as if nothing at all happened? _Sounds good to me, _she thought.

Tom didn't know what to make of what he heard earlier that day in the infirmary from Lizbeth. His best friend, the only one he really held trust in, couldn't know about the basilisk he himself had just recently discovered. Not unless he had told her, which he, most assured, did not. He ruled it off as a dream, blamed it on her head trauma.

She could have just heard about it, or perhaps read about it somewhere and her subconscious was just informing her in dreams about it, he decided. _Which is just plain stupid,_ he knew. But nothing else could explain, really. But that wasn't most important at this instance, Lizbeth was. She was hurt, and possibly still unconscious. It was just before dusk, but not yet after curfew, so Tom figured he had enough time to swing by the infirmary, check in on her, and be back in time for his slug-club meeting.

He turned instead to the opposite way from the library and headed down the hall toward the infirmary to check up on his best friend.

The shades had been drawn to a nearly tight close, casting dark shadows when Tom Pushed open the door. If she hadn't been the only patient in the place, Tom wouldn't have been able to clearly identify the lump under the covers of the third cot to the left of where he was standing. Of course, the curly purple hair might have been a dead giveaway. In the darkness, Tom couldn't tell if Lizbeth was awake or not though he thought she may have been just lying there, thinking perhaps.

It was soon proven he knew her well as she sat up sluggishly, and squinted through the dark.

"You're well now, I presume?" he asked, only startling her for a moment before she just sighed and leaned back against the pillows.

"What gave you that idea?" she croaked out, wincing slightly at the sound of her own voice.

"Well, for one, you're conscious. Must mean you're better," he informed her, moving closer to the bed.

She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. "In theory, yes, but right now my head has its own pulse, Tom. It kind of hurts." She gave him a glare-that's was what he assumed anyway, it was difficult to tell.

"You're glaring at me, aren't you?" He couldn't help but smile slightly as he watched the shadow of her arms cross, what he supposed was her tongue sticking out.

"Maybe," she dragged out the word, giving it several extra syllables.

"Are you sure you're not really a child in disguise, Lizbeth?"

Another one shoulder shrug.

Tom had to be right-Lizbeth was acting far too normal for her to have ever known what he was planning to do. It was just a mere coincidence that she "knew," nothing more. That was it, nothing more.

Tom smirked-he was right, as usual.

Laurie visited her the next morning.

Lizbeth was still to stay in the infirmary another day for her head injury had still not healed properly, even with the revolting potion the older lady had given her for it.

"Bleh, I can still taste in my mouth," complained Lizbeth to her elder sister.

"Well, what would you expect pumpkin juice? I can assure you right now that none of these medical potions will taste very good," replied Laurie, laughing. Laurie planned on becoming a Healer one day, so Lizbeth could believe her about anything she said involving medical potions or spells or whatever it was Healers used in their…healing.

"Still, disgusting after taste." She sighed then, slumping back on the pillows. She was behind bored and the one thing she didn't want to think about was the one thing she couldn't _not _think of. Her vision and what it may mean for her future. In her dream, she had had a child, a girl, with Tom's blue orbs and her dark curls. Did that mean one day she would bear his child? That'd she would have to run from him because of her? In a way, it could be believed yet in another way, she simply didn't understand. Did it mean Tom would love her-at one point, at least? That meant then she would have succeeded in her self-proclaimed mission-but for only so long, because if she had to escape it certainly meant trouble for her.

Ugh, what could she do? What other choice but to except her future did she have? Suppose she did something to change this, now that she knew, what would happen? She could never be too sure of that one.

"…Liz, Lizzie!"

Lizbeth glanced up, startled. "What? Were you saying something?"

"Lizzie," Laurie groaned, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. "You have the attention span of a fish. A vision is one thing, but certainly you weren't having one right now, were you?"

"No, just thinking."

"Pretty deep thinking. What, do you expect to be the next Merlin or something?"

Lizbeth rolled her emerald eyes toward the ceiling. She sighed, "No. It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" Laurie asked.

Lizbeth wasn't sure if she should tell her or not. Laurie would most definitely be able to give her good advice, but at the same time, Lizbeth believed she would be informing her sister too much information too soon. She could tell her later, after she concluded the possible reason on her own. Or if she couldn't. Either way, she would tell Laurie of her visions, just not this very moment.

"Oh, well, I'm still a little fuzzy on how I got hit with a-what was it? A buldger? How the hell did that happen?" she said finally.

"That? Well, see…" and then she proceeded to tell her how some twat on the Ravenclaw team miscalculated his hit, the beater on the Slytherin team hadn't gotten to it in time and smack, it slammed her in the face. Laurie was surprised the hit hadn't smashed have her brain in-it just left her a nasty bruise. She then just went on and on about, well, Lizbeth wasn't sure what; she'd spaced out again.

_She heard whispering, snake whispers. They meant something, she didn't know what; she was no parseltongue. They'd been continuing on for a little less than a week now, and she for one was getting absolutely sick of them. Maybe today, on her day to do her rounds as Head Girl, she'd find the source of the sounds. No such luck it seemed, when Laurie did her usual circle of the castle, during which the snake chanting-what had sounded like chanting- had finally stopped for the night._

Strange, _she thought, _I wonder what happened for them to just stop like that. _Whoever they were. She slinked along the wall, glad her shift was about to end; she was exhausted and now that the noise had stopped, she could finally sleep. She wasn't sure how her sister and the others could sleep through that. Unless, for some reason, they couldn't hear them. No, Lizbeth could sleep through a war if she had to, and probably so could Lucy and Ella. But Laurie couldn't and that's what was making her so grumpy lately. _

_ Eh, she'd worry about it later, after she got some sleep. So she walked down the darken castle halls, heading toward the dungeons when it came. A loud, blood curdling scream. Completely alert and completely forgetting about her sleep, she ran off toward where she thought was the way to the sound. _

_ She was deep within the castle walls by now, so she wasn't at all that surprised when no one came running. But, she was Head Girl; she'd handle it on her own. And she did. _

_Another scream came, this one more piercing than the last. Laurie sped up, faster now toward the sound. It came again, again, and again. And then, suddenly, it stopped. The screaming, the fear she could sense, all of it gone within a second. All that did was fuel her to sprint faster to the source._

_ Finally, after thinking clearly of the position, she stopped at one of the many abandoned classrooms deep in the castle, far past the dungeons. It was opened a crack, and when she gently creaked it open, she spotted a dark substance on the floor. Lighting up her wand, she cast it across the spot. A pool of blood was leaking from the entry way, flowing in a steady stream to her shoes. _

_Laurie's eyes widened like saucers, two dark green orbs glowing against white skin. _

_She inched the door open, stepping past the sticky redness, and further into the room. She cast a lumos; now a bright ball of light was hovering in the center of the room. She followed the line of blood about ten feet into the room, her eyes downcast. And then, she saw her. The hollow, lifeless brown eyes of Lucy, her body almost beyond recognition from the waist down. A scream had been forever etched onto her mouth. Laurie could not believe her eyes. _What the hell had happened here?

Lizbeth woke, drenched in sweat. She hadn't screamed; she hadn't wakened her roommates. But she was scared beyond anything she had ever seen before. It was not that strange for her to have a vision as if she were someone else in them, as her sister especially.

Her heart was pounding nearly straight out her chest, her stomach coiling with disgust. She could still picture Lucy's dead corpse staring up at her with those eyes, those horror filled, frightened eyes. Those eyes scared her more than anything she had ever laid her eyes on before.

To reassure herself, Lizbeth sat up wearily, glancing over at the bed to the left of hers where Lucy laid asleep. Lizbeth sighed in relief, and then slumped back against the headboard. Her body ached, her heart was sore, and her head pounded again with its own pulse. She needed sleep, she knew, but she also knew that wasn't going to come for her any time soon. She would sit there, awake until the morning and then she would go to class, as if nothing at happened. She had to.


	9. Chapter 9 Hidden Questions

**A/N: Wow, so it's been a while. Sorry about that, major case of writers block. But I'm back and I know pretty much where I'm going with this story.**

**So, I hope you enjoy this chap, and virtual cookies to those who waited!**

**Disclaimer: I own zip, if I did, I'd be rich. **

009

Chapter nine: Hidden Questions

Learning of the future was tricky business. No one knew that better than Lizbeth. She knew that if something "big" were to happen, it would be much wiser to just let it go, forget about it and go on like you never saw it. Otherwise trying to change or stop it from occurring would just end in ultimate disaster. She knew as such and that was why she simply dismissed her latest vision.

That was easier said than done.

Lizbeth had never before been so shaken, so distressed, by a past vision. She'd lay in bed that night, staring at nothing in the dark, but in her mind's eye the image of a lifeless Lucy was forever stuck. That was a vision she was positive she would never ever forget. She wouldn't ever tell Laurie about it, either. She couldn't be trusted with this particular piece of information, not now, not ever. Laurie was irrational, unpredictable, and she could never handle stronger visions as well as Lizbeth could. She was weak when it came to them. Unlike Lizbeth, Laurie had a weaker mind, yet a stronger body. She might do something to cause the both of them danger by whoever-whatever- was going to kill Lucy.

It wasn't as if Lizbeth was going to sit back and watch as Lucy died, she just did not have a plan yet. There were ways around visions involving death; you just had to know them. Lizbeth didn't, she just figured that if she could just maybe figure out the murderer, then she had a chance of exposing him-it. It would be difficult, she knew, like she knew finding this out alone was not going to be so easy. She would need help, she just didn't know from whom.

First thing first: Act normal. And she accomplished such. To a certain extent.

All during the morning hours, Lizbeth wouldn't look Lucy in the eye-she couldn't. If she were to, all she would see were where Lucy's' normally sparkly brown eyes were, were a dead murky dark pool.

If she had been a nicer person, the guilt would have eaten her alive by lunch. But she was not, and so she went through the afternoon like she always would.

Now, with Laurie, she was glad she didn't have to see her until dinner. She couldn't face her sister all too well either. It wasn't so bad; she just didn't know what to tell her without blurting out the truth.

After what seemed to be a ridiculously long day, Lizbeth was glad to be alone for once. It felt like she hadn't been alone all day, and she really had no desire to talk to anyone, even her best friend. She just wanted to relax in the common room until dinner. Too bad it didn't happen that way. As usual, her initial plans didn't happen the way she wished them to.

It was Tom who came and occupied the seat next to hers. Lizbeth was reading, and not paying any real attention to her surroundings. He sat there with her, the only sounds being the gentle murmur of students in the room. The seconds ticked by. Tom was patient today; normally he wouldn't willingly sit there in silence for a good ten minutes. Unless, he just had nothing to say. Yet Lizbeth was certain he did- something that probably had to do with her health; she'd just left the care of the infirmary after all and the bruise on her forehead had yet to heal completely.

She was not prepared for what came out of his mouth though.

"I came to ask. What do you know about Basilisks'?" he asked, startling her.

"Um, what?" Where was this coming from?

"I was just curious," he shrugged. "You were mumbling something about them when you'd been in the infirmary. They sound...interesting."

She was dumbfounded. She had said all that? No, that couldn't be. She couldn't have said everything she'd dreamed about-could she?

"Oh, right. What'd I say about them, exactly?" Lizbeth gave a nervous laugh.

Tom quirked an eyebrow at her before saying, "Well, you basically kept murmuring the name a few times. What are they, do you know?"

_He just really wants to know_, she thought. _That's all, good._

"Um, well, I'm not sure? I mean, I think I just heard the name somewhere- maybe I read about it somewhere, I don't know honestly." The lie sounded false even to her ears, but Tom seemed to buy it easily. He looked almost grateful that she'd said what she said. It was strange, though Lizbeth really could not tell all too well; Tom had far too much experience masking his true emotions that even she couldn't see fake from real sometimes.

The rest of the week past quite normally. Of course, Lizbeth couldn't completely push the thought of Lucy's death out her mind, but for the time being, she stored it-and the image- to the back of her mind.

Saturday morning, Lizbeth woke early to begin her research on this basilisk. She'd decided earlier that week that the first thing she should do was find out what this creature Tom was supposedly going to release was. And for that she needed the unlimited resources of the library. She wasn't sure where to start, though; she figured that a creature like the one she saw had to be in something only the restricted section would carry. So she decided to try that section first. The night before, she'd gone to get written permission from professor Slughorn-the most gullible teacher she could think of. A few simple words, a little white lie, and then she had access to the restricted section.

She wasn't sure how long it would take her, so she left the dungeons almost as soon as she woke up and headed off toward the library. She handed off her note of permission to the librarian and walked back into the restricted section. She did not have to faintest clue as to what she was looking for, but she just forged through the stacks, pulling books down at random. Once her arms were full to the brim with books, and she could barely see over them, she shuffled almost awkwardly to an empty corner of the room and dropped the books onto the floor. There she scoured through them for hours, reading each word by word, cover to cover.

_ Nothing, _she thought, throwing the latest book onto the ever growing pile next to her. _There's nothing, not here, and there's too many books here. I'll never find it._

She eyed the last book she hadn't read yet. It looked old, really, really old, like if she even just touched the cover, it would crumble it was that fragile looking. And it was the only one she'd seen that looked promising. Though, she didn't open it, afraid the sliver of hope she had had toward it would disappear when she saw there was nothing there.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not had breakfast and that she had been at this for hours, so long she couldn't even guess the time.

_Might as well stop for today. _And with that thought, she gathered up a few of the books, including the fragile looking one, and made the slow process of standing up; her backside was quite sore from sitting on the hard floor all day. Only, she bumped into a shelf to the right, and _thump_, the books hit the floor one by one.

"Damn-it," Lizbeth muttered, bending down to retrieve them. As she did so, she noticed the older looking one had opened up to a page. Inspecting further, she was delighted to see the words _Basilisk_ centered at the top. Abandoning the other books, she sat down again and pulled the book onto her lap, where she read:

_Of many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its method of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs ("_There's something worse than deadly fangs?" Lizbeth wondered aloud.),_ the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. (_Lizbeth shuddered to think about it.) _Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

Okay, now Lizbeth knew what a Basilisk was, but- where the hell was it? And what was Tom going to use it for?

She remember from her vision that he said it was somewhere in the school. But where could you hide a gigantic snake? And how could you control something _that_ dangerous? Also: Did Tom know about this Basilisk yet? Or was he going to, soon? And if he did know, did he know its location?

These were questions Lizbeth had no answers to, nor did she know a way to find these answers. _I may have to tell Laurie after all,_ she thought dimly as she gathered the books to put away. _Maybe she might know, at least, she might know where you could hide a giant snake; she does know the castle grounds better than I do. _And with that last thought, Lizbeth set off to find her sister; to tell her exactly what she'd been holding from her.


	10. Chapter 10 The Truth Always Comes Out

**A/N:Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Hahaha...Right. So, I've got about zero excuses, besides maybe complete forgetfulness and a total lack of motivation for this fic. But, I'm back. Only three years late, but here it is. I'm going to try to keep updating on this story, because I remembered how fun it actually was writing it, but I do need some fresh ideas. It's been so long that I've forgotten where I planned to take this. So literally anything well help me. And, as always, hope you enjoy! **

* * *

><p>010<p>

Chapter ten: The Truth Always Comes Forth

It was hard to catch Laurie when she was alone; there was an important match against Gryffindor soon, which meant she was either training, or sleeping when Lizbeth was able to find her. She often wondered when Laurie got the chance to eat and do homework. Not that Lizbeth minded too much; she still very much did _not _want to confront her sister about this. But it was only prolonging the inevitable—she'd have to tell Laurie sometime. And soon, if she could find her.

Lizbeth was finally able to corner her sometime during dinner, as Laurie was just entering the Great Hall. Lizbeth jumped from her seat, called out a rushed "I have to talk to Laurie for a second, be right back," and then dragged her sister out into the corridor. She didn't stop until she reached an alcove away from any prying eyes.

"Whoa, Liz, what's wrong?" asked Laurie, no doubt taking in the wild look in Lizbeth's eyes.

"I need to tell you what I found," she said, before everything came out in a rush. All out it, from the visions about the basilisk to the information she'd found out the day before, even the suggestion that maybe Laurie could help her find it. Lizbeth wasn't too sure if she wanted to reveal _all _of what she'd seen—she didn't really want to rehash the Lucy vision, and thinking about it only made her shudder, but since her sister was probably the one who was going to find her, she told her anyway.

Laurie listened intently, not interrupting; her face was the only thing that betrayed her emotions: fist intrigued, then horrified as Lizbeth got to the dead Lucy part. "No," she whispered when Lizbeth was finished, "Not Lucy. Why would she….?" She didn't seem able to finish.

Lizbeth nodded reluctantly. "It's true, Laurie. You of all people should know it's going to happen."

"Not if we stop it first." The fear was gone from Laurie's eyes; and determined now she stalked forward, in the direction of the great hall.

Eyes widening in the realization of what her elder sister was about to do, Lizbeth grabbed her around the arm and tried to hold her back, but Laurie was both taller and stronger than her. "Wait a minute," said Lizbeth, struggling to hold her back. "Were we not supposed to reveal ourselves to Tom? That was the whole purpose of this far-fetched plan in the first place, wasn't it? Get him to _stop _doing whatever it is he plans to do? That's hardly going to work if you go confronting him."

Laurie stopped so suddenly Lizbeth nearly fell over. "You are right, Lizzie. Sorry. I think I just got caught up in the moment."

Lizbeth gave her a look. "You think? Now, can we please head back to dinner and pretend this never happened?"

Her sister nodded. "But we need to form a plan," she said, linking an arm through Lizbeth's. "A concrete one, one that has a chance of working."

Lizbeth couldn't think of anything even remotely close to working. "Like what?"

"Well, you said in the vision, he was aware that you knew; that he'd taken you to where this basilisk hid. And you said it's somewhere in the school, right?"

She nodded. "So…"

Laurie rolled her eyes. "So, _you _need to figure out how he ends up telling you, and I think I have the perfect idea."

From the glint in her blue eyes, and the smirk on her lips, Lizbeth had the feeling she wasn't going to like this plan at all.

0000

She was right—she _hated _this plan.

It was the dead of night and Lizbeth was sulking around the corridors, waiting for Tom to make his rounds as prefect. Sure, Laurie's plan was somewhat genius, and yet only the truly insane would think of it. And it wasn't as if Lizbeth would get in trouble if she were caught; Tom would be curious, of course, and wonder just what the hell she was doing following him in the middle of the night. But she didn't think he'd be too mad about it, and she could just make up some ridiculous notion that she was sleep-walking. That is, if she weren't too obvious lying about her endeavors.

Laurie was to search the castle ground for anything even remotely able to hide a giant snake. Which, when Lizbeth thought about it, the very idea of there being a hidden monster in the school was too farfetched to make much sense of. Hogwarts was home; Hogwarts was _safe. _But what she saw always came true, so if there were indeed a three-hundred-and-whatever-foot snake hidden in the walls then she would know. Where exactly it could be was another story altogether.

Lizbeth hopped up and down, foot to foot, trying to rub some warmth into her. It was beyond cold in the hall, and she was wearing little more than her pajamas and a jumper. When she was about to abandon all hope of Tom even showing up tonight, she saw his tall silhouette round the bend. She jumped back into her little corner, back pressing hard against the wall, barely breathing as he passed by her. She waited until he was little more than a shadow in the dark before pushing off and hurrying after him. She'd casted a silencing charm on her boots, and had done her best at a Disillusioning spell so to be less seen. Lizbeth couldn't say if it would work all too well, but she figured as long as she was quiet enough and stayed a couple of feet behind Tom, then he wouldn't notice at all.

She hoped anyway.

Tom made his rounds quickly, striding far ahead of her on his annoyingly long legs. He seemed to be in a hurry to finish—and that only made the hesitant knot of suspicion she had of him grow. By some stroke of luck, her spells held through and he didn't seem to notice her trailing behind. His actions were far from being suspicious, aside from the hurried pace, but twenty minutes into her stalking, he did something that was…well, pretty odd. He marched up to one of the girls' bathrooms—and walked inside.

Lizbeth stood just outside the door, starting at it in unrepressed shock. What in the bloody hell was _Tom _doing in the girls' restroom? The only thing that Lizbeth could guess at as to why would be if he were meeting someone in there—meeting a girl. She shook her head. _Oh, please, Tom wouldn't do that. _He wasn't the type; she didn't know what type that actually was, but she was convinced it wasn't Tom of all people. What she wanted to believe to be the reason was that it had something to do with why she was following him in the first place. But it was a little hard to imagine there being a basilisk hidden in the bathroom—how could you hide something that huge?

Steeling herself for whatever she might see, Lizbeth pulled open the door, cringing as the door gave a slight creak. But it didn't appear that Tom heard; he stood by the sink, his back to her, and he was whispering something, something that sounded like _hisses. _She knew that he was a parseltongue, had figured it out a couple years ago, but she'd hardly ever heard him use it, and these were cold and low murmurs—ones that were starting to freak her out a little. There was a faint white light emitting from the sink in front of him, and she could make out the sink _moving _from its place, and then sinking into the floor beneath.

Lizbeth let out a startled gasp—and then cursed violently, clasping her hand over her mouth. Tom whipped around, wand out, and she dove behind a stall.

"Who's there?" he demanded. Lizbeth held her breath, pressing up against the wall, shrinking into the shadows and trying to make herself as small as was humanly possible in case he came over. Which, unfortunately, he did.

"Show yourself," he ordered, and she heard his footsteps echo off the floor as he approached her hiding place. Would it be better to reveal herself now—or wait until he eventually found her? Her concealing spells could only last for so long, and Tom was far better at spellcasting than she was. He was her best friend—so he shouldn't be too harsh with her, right? Sure, she was basically stalking him, but the sleepwalking thing was still an option. If anything, she could claim she'd had to use the bathroom, but didn't want to wake her roommates, so she decided to take a jaunty walk around the castle at night. It would, at any rate, explain the sleepwear.

Oh, who was she kidding? Anything she came up with wouldn't be good enough for Tom not to see through—she was a terrible liar and he knew it. So she did what she thought would be the best idea.

She stepped out from behind the stall, palms up. "Fancy seeing you here Tom," she said, giving a nervous giggle.

Tom lowered his wand, but only just. "What are you doing here, Lizbeth?" His tone still held that authoritative note to it from before, only she could hear some confusion mingled in with it.

She shrugged. "I saw you going into the girl's restroom, and followed you in. I should really be asking you what _you _are doing in here, Tom." For the most part, it was the truth, and since it was, telling the half-lie wasn't that hard. And her whole reason for following him in the first place was to find out where the basilisk could be hidden; and judging by the hole in the ground over by the sinks, she figured that she now knew the answer.

A spark of something she couldn't quite put her finger on flashed in his blue eyes, and he stalked toward her. "What did you see, Lizbeth?" The demand was cool and polite, but it was just that: a demand, not a request.

Lizbeth resisted the urge to take a step back—and for the first time since they'd met, she was a little afraid of her best friend. "N—nothing," she stammered, which he knew was a lie.

A single eyebrow rose on his face, and though it was dark, she could just make out the expression on his face, the look in his eyes. And it wasn't as hostile or scary as she'd thought it should be. "Nothing," he repeated. He stopped just inches from her, craning his neck to look down at her. "Tell me something, Lizbeth," he said softly, "have you always had premonitions?"

Shock coursed through her like a flood, and she drew in a sharp intake of breath. "How'd you know?" she whispered, knowing that anything else would be a lie, and that he'd know.

Tom shrugged. "A while. I figured it out when you were in the infirmary. At first I just waved it off as a mere coincidence that you would know about the basilisk. But the more I thought on it, the more it made sense. It isn't a topic you can find in just any book. And it made me think about all those times you were focused on something else, something that wasn't even there. And it just seemed so obvious, especially when I thought of all those small instances when you just _knew _something. When you expressed neither surprise nor any sort of emotion at certain things, as if you'd just…already known." He looked at her, and the fascination and intrigue in his eyes were not what she was used to seeing. At least, not toward her. It gave her a weird feeling, and if this whole situation weren't giving her the creeps, she might have reflected on the notion, might have even liked it.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she asked, hugging herself.

He didn't seem surprised at her sudden change in topic. "Come, I'll show you," he said simply, holding out his hand.

And even though she almost didn't want to, Lizbeth slid her hand in his.


	11. Chapter 11 Slytherin's Heir

**A/N: I found this difficult to write. Tom's part, at least. I'm still not too sure if I'm satisfied or not...hmm, well, anywho. I could seriously use any-and I mean ANY-suggestion as to where I could possibly take this. I sort of still have some idea, but for the most part, I'm not one hundred percent. So thanks, and happy reading! :)**

* * *

><p>011<p>

Chapter Eleven: Slytherin's Heir

"Ladies first," said Tom, nudging her toward the hole.

With more than a little trepidation, Lizbeth glanced down, trying in vain to see anything besides darkness. "Is it safe?"

Her best friend let out a dry chuckle. "Perfectly safe, I assure you, though a bit dirty. Now, go." And the statement was again a demand. "I'll be right behind you."

Sure he would most likely throw her in if she didn't move, she took one last deep breath and dropped off into the darkness. It was like falling down a massive slide, one with dirt and grime coating the sides. She noticed other pipes branching off in different directions but didn't take too much care for it as the pipe she was in took harsh turns, twisting and sloping to who knew where. Just when she thought it couldn't end, she was flung out over open air, only for a moment, and then she fell to the ground with a _thud. _Tom landed next to her a second later, though it was clear he'd been here before because he'd managed to land on his feet.

Giving her a faint smirk, he yanked her to her feet, brandishing his wand. "This way, Lizbeth." Casting a _Lumos, _he pulled her along and she decided she definitely _didn't _want to know what the crunch beneath her feet was. The tunnel they were in, for there was nothing else it could be, went on for what seemed like miles, turning every now and then, and just when she thought it would never end, they stopped at a dead end. A wall stood in front of them; two snakes were carved on the stone. Their emerald eyes looked eerily alive.

A low hiss came from Tom, and Lizbeth swiveled to look at him. He just smiled at her, a flash of white in the darkness. The wall cracked open, and he took her hand gently, pulling her with him inside. They were in a long, dimly lit chamber with stone pillars supporting the ceiling.

"Where _are _we?" asked Lizbeth, turning to look at him.

"The Chamber of Secrets." And it was the way he said it that made her shiver; the triumphant, excited, _proud, _tone that had her skin crawling. She knew he was a prideful person—what man wasn't—but she'd never heard it sound so…_wrong _before, not coming from him. Malfoy maybe, but never Tom. This Chamber of Secrets was important to him; not the discovery of it, per say, but just the mere existence of it meant something to him. What that was, Lizbeth wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Why then?" she said, gazing up at a great stone statue of what looked to be—was that? She squinted hard in the dark, blinking in surprise when she recognized the face. "Slytherin," she whispered, realization dawning on her fast. "Slytherin who could easily control a massive snake…Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts…Slytherin who made and hide the basilisk in the Chamber of secrets?" This last was a question, to which Tom nodded in affirmation. Lizbeth let out a breath that was more sigh than anything. "Okay. And you find this all important why?"

"You are a pureblood, right, Lizbeth?" he said, ignoring her question.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Yes, I am, but I don't really see what that has to do with a basilisk or this place or why we're here."

"It has everything to do with it. Wizards have become too lenient of muggles infecting our society, especially here at Hogwarts." This last bit he said with a sneer of disgust.

Lizbeth was hardly surprised; many students in Slytherin had that pureblood mentality, the idea that only those of pureblood lineage were_ true_ wizards and anyone else was seen as inferior. Tom himself was a half-blood, but he had made it crystal clear early on in their friendship that he despised his muggle side. Her own feelings toward the subject varied greatly from her friends'. The girl had been raised by parents who, while they hadn't thought of muggles as equals, had not pushed the idea of pureblood rule onto their children. Though the aunt she and Laurie now lived with did, the sisters had already had some clue as to their own thoughts about muggles, muggle-borns, and even half-bloods. Lizbeth had the same thoughts as her parents in regards to muggles: she believed that wizards, any wizard, was superior because of their magical ability; but for the most part, she thought that muggles were just t_here_ and weren't anything significant enough for her to be bothered by.

As for muggle-borns...well, she didn't necessarily dislike them—Lucy was, after all, of muggle blood—but she wasn't a great advocate of muggle-born rights. She basically saw them the same way she saw muggles-except for those she was friends with, of course.

"Okay," Lizbeth said slowly, still struggling to understand. "Call me slow, but I still don't quite understand what this basilisk has to do with why you hate muggles, Tom."

He was patient with her, as he always was. He spread his arms, gesturing to the space around them, and began to walk the perimeter of the room, circling her like a predator on the prowl. "Well, it comes down to this, Lizbeth," he explained. "I've recently discovered that I'm the heir of Slytherin. As you probably are already aware of, Slytherin was a supporter of preserving pureblood purity, and I've taken it upon myself to...act on those beliefs, and the basilisk will help to achieve the goals I have."

Lizbeth wasn't one hundred percent sure how to respond to his confession. On the one hand, she supposed she could see where he was coming from, given his beliefs and moral standards. He hadn't _expletively_ stated he was using the beast to harm others, so it wasn't as if what he were doing was wrong..._Is this what you'll become, Tom? Are these the first sparks of the darkness that will tear your soul to shreds?_

She stared at her friend, saw the gleam in his eyes-and felt something pool in the center of her gut. She couldn't name the emotion even if she wanted to.

"Why tell me this?" she managed to croak out.

Tom smiled at her, and it was difficult to tell whether it was genuine or not. "For two reasons. You're my best friend, Lizbeth, and I don't know for how much longer I could have hidden it from you. And secondly, I believe that your special gift could greatly help my cause." He came to stand in front of her, his lanky frame towering over her smaller figure. It was at once both intimidating and reassuring to have him so near.

She still didn't know what to do; her mind was a grand chaotic jumble of thoughts and feelings too scattered to sort through. This was _Tom, _her best friend. Sure, there were moments when he'd lose control and express a darker side of himself—but didn't everyone have those? It didn't necessarily guarantee he was a bad person, and Lizbeth still had trouble—despite her vivid visions stating otherwise—believing that he was _truly _evil. Nevertheless, she knew it was still her mission to save him from falling even farther into the darkness she could already see he was in.

" I…I don't know what to say," she admitted, because anything else would have been too obvious a lie.

His smile grew softer. "That's alright; I can't imagine that you would, actually. To be honest, I hadn't even planned it to happen this way. I was going to lead you along slowly, let you get accustomed to it first, but you sped things up."

"Right, following you into the bathroom probably wasn't the best idea, now that I think about it," she mumbled.

He laughed a high sound that echoed around the chamber. "No, it wasn't. Why _were _you following me anyway?"

As innocent as the question sounded, Lizbeth knew there was an undercurrent of tightly concealed anger coiling beneath the inquiry. Now was the time for her to really test her ability to lie. Or lack of.

"I was curious," she said, thinking fast. "It's the visions I have sometimes. They were vague, but, as you already seem to know, were about you and a basilisk. I wanted to know what it was about, so I decided to follow you around. I didn't even think I'd see anything of real worth, but," she shrugged. "Here we are."

"I see. You could have just asked me, you know."

"Yes, but then I'd have to explain my premonitions and—"

"…that would have been difficult for you," he finished for her, nodding. "I completely understand, Lizbeth." He offered her his arm. "I think it would be for the best if I should you the basilisk another time," he said as Lizbeth slipped her arm in his. "It's late and I can tell this is a bit too much for you at the moment. You need time to understand before you decided."

"Yeah," she said, grateful at the chance to finally leave. "I think I do.

0000

"_Psst! _Lizzie, wake up!"

Lizbeth wearily cracked open one eye, spying in the darkness the form of her older sister. She was leaning on the bed, her dark hair shrouding her face like a curtain. "Come on, up and at em," she whispered, waiting until Lizbeth sat up before she moved away. "Tell me what happened."

Lizbeth sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Can't we wait to do this until the morning? You're the one who had me skulking around the castle till the wee hours. I need some sleep."

"Nope," Laurie said, now sitting cross-legged on the bed. "I just _know _something happened tonight, and I want to know so we can make future plans. You can sleep all you wish afterword."

Knowing resistance against her sister was futile, Lizbeth resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't be getting her precious rest for a little while longer. "Okay, fine, but I don't want to hear any more plans tonight. Bombard me with suggestions tomorrow, or even the next day is fine. Agreed?"

Laurie nodded. "Agreed. And just so you know, I found nothing. I spent hours searching and I came up with nothing. It's highly disappointing."

"That's because I know where the basilisk is, Laurie," said Lizbeth, picking at the loose threads in her bedclothes.

Her sister's eyes went wide and her eyebrows shot to her hairline. "Really? That's great. Where is it then?"

"Before that, I have to tell you what Tom was doing," she said, and then the truth of that night came pouring from her mouth like a water spicket. When she finished, the emotions displayed on Laurie's face would have been highly comical in any other circumstance.

"That's incredible, Liz," she finally said, blinking away her shock. "So he figured it out, huh? Damn, that boy is smarter than I originally gave him credit for. Do you think he knows I have them too?"

Lizbeth shrugged. "Who knows? Probably, if he were able to figure it out with me. But, then again, he does spend most of his time with me and not you, and as far as I know he might not think it's hereditary. I don't really want to ask him. I think it would be for the better if he assumed I'm the only one with the gift—as he deemed it."

Laurie nodded. "I agree. And as much as I want to interrogate you about this matter further, I think you deserve some sleep, especially after all that happened today. Good job, Liz," her sister praised before patting her briefly on the head and then leaving her alone.

Lizbeth fell back against the pillows—and, for the first time in she didn't know how long, fell into a dreamless slumber.

0000

"So what are you going to do?" Laurie asked.

The Blackrose sisters were currently on a leisurely stroll across the grounds. It was mid-November and a heavy blanket of snow covered the castle; few people were risking the harsh weather which was why they'd decided on the walk.

"I don't know," Lizbeth breathed, watching as her breath came out in a puff of air. "It's not as if I _believe _in his ideals, but…"

"You don't think they're all that wrong either," her sister supplied. "I understand. It's hardly fair, given how…strange and possibly evil he might turn out to be, but Tom does have some good points. Since we aren't too certain on the method he's using, I can't say if I completely agree myself, but it makes sense to some extent."

"I know. So you see my problem?"

Laurie nodded. "Plus, who's to say the boy won't crack and then try to threaten you if you refuse."

"Laurie!" Lizbeth admonished, smacking her lightly on the arm. "He wouldn't. I wouldn't let him," she said firmly when Laurie sent her a disbelieving stare.

"I know you wouldn't, but still, I wouldn't put it past him to do it. I just don't want to see you get hurt. In any way," she added, a serious note in her voice.

"I know, Laurie, but you are the one who suggested this whole 'mission' in the first place," Lizbeth pointed out. "If you didn't want me to get hurt, you should have done it yourself."

Laurie barked out a laugh. "Yeah, as if that would have worked. Riddle's got eyes only for you, Lizzie."

Lizbeth dismissed that with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure he does."

"Well, it is true. I can see it! Why do you think Malfoy's been avoiding you since that trip to Hogsmeade?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Tom got jealous of the time you two were spending together and threaten Malfoy to back off," her sister said matter-o-factly.

Lizbeth shook her head. "No, that's crazy. We've been through this before, remember? Tom doesn't _get _jealous. It's not in his nature. And especially not for something involving _me."_ The sheer notion of Tom ever…no, it was too ridiculous to even consider for more than a second.

"Hmm, whatever you say, Liz. By the way, what are your feelings for him anyway?"

They were nearing the great lake now, where a few brave souls were Transfiguring their boots into ice skates as a means to move around on the frozen water. Those who did weren't very good at it; several of the kids slipped and skidded on the surface, tripping over clumsy feet. Lizbeth stopped and watched them for a moment while she tried to assess her feelings toward her best friend.

Just how _did _she feel about him anyway? They'd been friends for so long she'd hardly ever thought about him in any other way. But she _had _thought of him as something else, something more, at one point or another, and that was the whole point, wasn't it? She couldn't say for sure what it was yet, but she had the feeling that she would come to realize what they were soon enough.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I truly…do not know."


End file.
